


i’m preying on you tonight, hunt you down eat you alive

by sultrygoblin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Animal Instincts, Chasing, F/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sexual Tension, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23571886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot - “i moved at a near sprint, drawn toward a symphony, primitive passion. love making. Wildcats mating, snarls at the joining, satisfied roars signaling completion.” - through the keyhole, ellen hopkins
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 46





	i’m preying on you tonight, hunt you down eat you alive

**Author's Note:**

> so i wanted to do something nice for @asadmarveltrashbag she requested surprise her bucky fic and this is what happened. peter is just there to get beat up, sorry.

There are only two things in the world that can make Bucky rock hard in an instant; a nice, firm tug at the hairs just at the base of the neck and seeing their newest recruit in your simplest form, tossing sparring partners over your shoulders like bags of flour. The second being a much newer addition, being discovered on accident and have been about 30 seconds away from becoming one of the more mortifying moments of his life. He can’t help it though, even if he could Bucky’s not sure he’d want to. Today is a special kind of day, though. There’s something in the air that just felt different and it’s not the heatwave that’s been bearing down on them for what now seems like an eternity. Training sessions have slowed, the few that happen only take place in the air-conditioned building. He should’ve known that wouldn’t matter. He steps into the kitchen, moving to grab a chilled water out of the fridge before hitting the mostly empty gym. He gets the water but his feet don’t carry them, stepping towards Sam who was looking out the window with the most confused look.

“That girl is insane,” it only takes 3 guesses to guess who any given time but you’re always the first thing that pops into his mind, “Have you seen this?” glancing at him as he pointed out the window.

He hopes he managed nonchalance, looking towards the area just outside that had been sectioned off for practice. It’s you and Parker. Never did Bucky ever think he’d be jealous of a teenager. You hold your ground, ready to draw a charge, it makes the kid cocky. Throwing all his strength into what he could only assume was some attempt to move you. It’s a flash of limbs and he’s panting on the ground. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, one hand helping the kid to his feet, the other wiping the sweat off your forehead. The sports bra and sweat shorts you wear are sweat-drenched, the flyaways around your face sticking to your cheeks and forehead. He’s thought about you like that a thousand times before, well not exactly like this.

“Can’t believe she drug the kid into that,” finally yanking Bucky’s attention, barely, away from the scene, “Someone should go save him,” he couldn’t help a laugh at that.

“How long you been standing here?” he counters, Sam shakes his head and laughs.

“You think I’m going out there in this? To stop her?” turning his gaze back on the pair, “Last thing I need is an angry, sweaty woman tackling me to the ground in a heatwave,” shaking his head as this time you simply sidestepped the boy, shouting something you couldn’t hear, “But to be fair she’s not my type.”

“I should,” face scrunching up slightly as their gazes met, “Shouldn’t I?”

Sam shrugged, stepping back away from the window, “I can’t answer that one for you,” heading towards the door as his attention was directed back out the window, “But if you’re asking for my opinion,” he turned, watching the man stop and turn to look at him one last time, “You may like your but this isn’t 1941 anymore, Buck, you don’t make a move and someone else is gonna scoop your up.”

“Thought she wasn’t your type?” raising an eyebrow and receiving no answer except for his friend disappearing around the corner.

It wasn’t a new joke, but it had been the most brazen. Maybe the heat was starting to get to everyone. There had to be a reason you’d drug Parker outside, but eventually, that boy was indeed going to need saving. Best to just put him out of his misery. He could word it however he wanted in his head, but he knew it all came down to one thing. A guilt-free reason to press himself against you, hold you against the ground- and there it was. He spent the walk downstairs calming himself down, psyching himself up, and reminding him that at the end of the day he was just saying a teenager from whatever wrath was inside a grown woman.

Pushing outside the heat is a heavy blanket, the air itself feels sticky, and he’s already started to sweat.

“It’s never gonna happen, I am never going to be able to do this,” it’s just around the corner where the sun is shining and there are no shadows to hide from it, “Why are we doing this?”

“You’re the one who said you couldn’t stop thinking about girls,” you countered, leaning down to grab a water bottle and take a long chug from it, “And one more day of just me and Bucky in the gym will ruin me for life.”

“You know, I always thought I’d grow out of this…” trailing off as he made his way into starting position as the other man turned the corner.

You shook your head, feet dug into the dirt, arms poised, “Nope. You just get slightly better at battering it down. Which is it’s own curse.”

It’s that confidence he remembered, the one of being the most charming, handsome gentleman in the room. It’d been a long time since he felt like that. There had been splinters of it when you were together. A flirtation here, an innuendo there, but he’d never recovered the power to build on it. It was a strange feeling to go from knowing he was doing the right thing by keeping you at arm’s length to realizing he had been the biggest idiot on the face of the planet to not realize you’d basically been shoving in his path. With a newfound confidence, he watched Peter psych himself up. Bouncing on his feet before launching at with his entire body once more. He tried to spin around you, which would have been new for the exercise it seemed, but you caught him around the west, throwing him to the ground next to you with a thud.

“I hate this,” he grumbled, rubbing the sweat out of his eyes and pushing the hair off his forehead.

“Pick on someone in your own weight class,” Bucky finally broke in, watching him slowly climb from the ground with a wince, “You can’t let your bully you like this.”

You shook your head with a laugh, hand on your hip as you faced away from the sun to look at him, “Look who’s come out of their big, fancy air-conditioned building.”

“Please take me back to the building. She’s evil, man!” he shouted, jogging his way towards the other man.

“Coward!” you shouted, glaring at the young man, “Pain builds character.”

“That’s what sadists say,” Bucky shot back quick, another thought popping into his head, “How about if I knock you down, he gets to go back inside.”

“That! I like that!”

You seemed to inspect him but he watched your chest stutter and muscles tense, “Alright, old man, let’s see what you’ve got.”

He yanked his hair back, folding it into the elastic as he took his place at the edge of the octagon, “Pretty cocky from a girl fighting a teenager,” there was a loud oh and hiss from their audience.

It’s different from this angle, facing you dead on and up close. There’s a sheen of sweat across your body that seems to almost glimmer in the sun, each barefoot dug at just the right angle. The muscles of your calves and thighs poised and ready. He tries not to think about them wrapped around his hips. your stomach clenched with the perfect arch of your back, ready for him to use his entire strength on you. It’s a twitch, just a twitch, and he has to remind himself to hold back just a little bit longer. If he can make sparring in almost 100 degrees seem less arduous than simply being alone in the gym with him their moment isn’t too far off. Every part of you is taut and waiting for him. He ran his tongue across his lips, watching your eyes flick downward. He doesn’t waste a second. You have a chance to gasp, he can’t help smirking, before you land on the ground. He cushions your landing, hovering just above you with that wicked look he used to wear so well.

“I’m free!” it’s your audience, both your heads jerk to look at him, pure joy on his face, “Oh sweet air conditioning!” he was quick, both of them gave him that. Quick and oblivious.

“You gonna let me up?” aiming for collected but your tone was breathless, ruining the whole charade.

“I dunno, thought I might stick around a few more minutes. You know, ruin your life forever,” he watched that flinch, one you thought you hid well and rightfully so. I

f he had been anyone else.

“See what I meant was,” making to inch your body upwards as if to escape, he’s curious, “You’ve seen you, right?” he smiles, feigning distraction.

You take your moment, rising quickly from the ground and breaking into a run. He gives you a head start, counting to five before taking off after you. It’s a new style of flirtation, one he would never have been able to manage before, something truly mixed between James Barnes and the Winter Soldier. You swung open the door, burst inside and towards the stairs, Wanda weaves out of your way and then his. He’d managed to pull you in, but that wasn’t enough, not for someone who treads such a fine line between woman and beast. Bucky has to catch you if he wants to keep you. He has to earn you. He barely sees your foot turning the corner, but he does, skidding around the corner to see your dive into an emergency stairwell. The doors barely closed when he pushes through it himself. You glance over the railing at him, taking the next door available to you. What happens once he catches you though? He’s thought about it a hundred times and it seems impossible to choose just one. The locker room door across the abandoned STRIKE training gym slams closed, the sound of a deadbolt clicking into place.

“That’s cheating!” he calls, pounding his fist on the door, “If you cheat that means I win!” though what exactly that meant he couldn’t tell you.

Nothing. No words, no laugh, not even a nudge against the door. He wonders if maybe he’s misjudged the moment. Maybe it was the start but not the beginning. There’s a squeak, a squeak that never changes with time, turning on a tap. The sound of water rushing fills his ears, rolling his eyes at the dramatics doesn’t stop him from taking a few steps, and running into the door with his left side. It’s a surprisingly sturdy door, but ever wooden door eventually comes down and this was no exception. It splintered, cracked, and seemingly fell apart. He’s sure someone will eventually ask questions about it but that’s not his problem. One tennis shoe squeaked against the linoleum floor, which wouldn’t work. He kicks them off quickly, socks gone to avoid slipping. Then onward.

It’s like any other locker room, benches and cubbies line the front area, the back one large tiled wall with a small open entrance to where you were. He makes his way slowly towards the echoing sound, abandoned shorts try to catch him up as he nears closer, your bra tries the same. you almost seem deliberate, but he knows you’re not. He stops just before the entrance, looking down at the crinkled fabric, he’d won. Bucky had finally caught up to you, no matter how long it had taken him. He yanked the elastic from his hair, throwing it somewhere and abandoning his clothing on the floor in a similar fashion. The light is dim, you’ve forgone all the lights for just two of the corner ones but every shower head is on, filling the room with steam and causing the water to pool just a bit no matter how fast it tried to drain.

Your face is under the water, hair soaked, streaming with water. It’s not the same woman he chased in here. You share a face but you’re open and relaxed. You’ve washed the predatory eroticism from your skin, leaving a kind of sensuality he’d never imagined simple from watching water cascade across a beautiful woman. He’d bested you, and you were laying your vulnerability out to him in the only way you knew how. Stepping slowly behind you, he wrapped his arms gently around your waist, pulling your against him with barely a tug.

“You are a very strange broad, you know that?” he whispered, lips against the shell of your ear.

There’s no apprehension when you turn in his arms, spreading warm water across his front, “Don’t kink shame me,” blinking the water out of your eyes in an attempt to properly look at him.

No one had ever looked at him the way you had right then. He doesn’t feel broken when you’re around, he doesn’t feel like something that deserves to suffer. It’s 1941, he’s just a guy who likes a gal and he can tell you’re just hoping he’ll ask you to go steady. And he knows what to do with that. He smothers your lips with his own, pushing forward with a smirk when you squeaked. Wet hands ran along the plains of his chest, clearing away everything that had happened before this moment. He presses forward, your back pushed into the wall, suddenly thrust beneath the water. He felt your teeth against his lip, tugging at it, holding his face tightly in your hands. The sound of cracking tile fills the room, his fingers are digging into the wall just beside your head, you gasp. But their lips never part. You grip the metal, hooking your leg around his hip on the same side. It feels like drowning in a dream. Now he understands why you brought him here.

“You thought about this,” dropping his head to suck a straining nipple into his mouth, “You thought about this a lot,” their not questions, he doesn’t expect answers trailing his free hand across the jut of your hip bone to that perfect place between your thighs.

He turns his attention to its twin, wasting no time in deep his fingers between your lips, and running the pads along your aching clit. He’s never heard a noise like the one you made from any woman before. It’s a growl, it comes from a deep place that makes your muscles twitch. His lips drag up your neck, brooks becoming rivers along their skin, the water is ankle-deep now, he’s sure it will tip over the lip of the door, eventually. It’s another quick movement, out of the spray, and into the pool. He holds you in his lap and tight against him, keeping your up on your knees with his arm. It was cheating but that was the point. He plundered your mouth, two fingers sliding inside you, this time he gets to swallow that noise down. It’s a heady sensation. He can feel his fingers speed up, you’re writhing in his arms and mewling against his mouth. You don’t know what to with your hands, trying to find purchase on the skin too slick and settling for a firm grip of the hair just at the base of your neck.

“Fuck,” you groan, you’re clenching around him and he just can’t help himself.

On his next thrust, he removed the appendages completely. You don’t have time to be upset about it. He’s pulled you down on him with one fluid movement, his pelvis rubbing against that needy bundle of nerves at their meeting. Everything about you is perfect, you fit him like a glove, the scream that echoes over and over in the room will haunt his dreams, and he doesn’t realize he’s been uttering the word over and over. He can’t think about anything else, feeling you grind against him to create friction in ways he hadn’t known were possible. your walls in sync with the movements, he knows you have to be doing it on purpose. His eyes threaten to roll back in his head, he lifted your lightly. This time you did get out a whine, still wrapped around him but just shy of all the nerves that had your climbing. your hips attempt to jerk fruitlessly and there’s a part of him that thinks for just a second that he could get you to beg. Next time.

His hips snap upwards, your words lost in a gasp, “What was that?” he panted, pressing his arm into the floor behind him to hold his balance as he does it again.

“Bucky,” your head falling forward, body rocking as his speed increased, you’re pulling hard at his hair, “Jesus Christ!” your entire body tenses against him.

You’re gasping and panting in his ear, it’s all you can manage. You’ve tumbled over the edge. Every part of you wrapped around him, squeezing tight. It’s too soon. But he can’t stop. You won’t let him. He makes a silent promise for later.

“Doll, I gotta,” you smash your lips against his, pushing him back into the water as you ground against him.

It’s better than permission, his grip on your tightening as he feels himself about to fall. You’re panting his name over and over as you writhe against, basking in aftershocks, and everything is warm and perfect. He feels like he’s floating and the sensation crashes over him like a wave. your name is a chant on his lips, over and over, hips jolting against yours harshly as he lost himself in you. You collapse on him, quiet mewing noises tumbling from your throat as your nerves ride out the last sparks of arousal. Bucky tried to catch his breath, staring up at what almost seemed like a sky, drenched in shade and steam that felt almost like smoke. Your nose nuzzles the curve of his jaw, before you appeared leaning over him.

There’s only three things in the world that can make Bucky rock hard in an instant; a nice, firm tug at the hairs just at the base of the neck, seeing you in your simplest form, and showers.


End file.
